Liberation in Hinduism: Transcending Delight in Knowledge

Study of scripture and worshipful devotion to a deity are germane to religion, but so too is transcendence, which I submit transcends learning about, and even being devoted to a deity. That transcendence goes beyond devotionalism depends on there being a distinction, such as between bhukti devotion to Krishna and liberation in Hinduism. In contrast, a religion in which God itself is love, which both Paul and Augustine insist regarding Christianity, and union with God is the ultimate goal, may carry devotionalism all the way in a process of transcendence. It may be tempting to read the Bhagavad-Gita as a monotheist story centered on Lord Krishna, and thus maintain that delight should not be transcended in genuine knowledge and that in being liberated, a devotee does not transcend loving Krishna. I contend that just such an approach artificially thwarts transcendence at a vital juncture, and thus inhibits final liberation. In other words, assuming that means are the ends risks losing sight of the ends that go beyond the means to those ends.

A supplement to the Gita (between 11.44 and 11.45) has Arjuna say to Lord Krishna, “. . . You are the one (who is) the originator, dispenser, almighty, and becoming (i.e., the unfolding universe).”[1] Krishna is “becoming,” and yet, in the Isha Upanishad can be found, “And into still blinder darkness” than is the case for people who worship ignorance, are “people who delight in learning,” and this is so because they “delight in becoming.”[2] Krishna is becoming in creating the cosmos, so perhaps this is why we are not to delight in our own becoming in learning knowledge. How are we to interpret this?

One way follows from the fact that we mere mortals are subject to both becoming and destruction; to ignore one would be rather one-sided. Therefore, a person who knows knowledge and ignorance together “(p)asses beyond death by destruction, and by the becoming attains immorality.”[3] So, the becoming that is Krishna as creator is good whereas the becoming that is in learning is bad. The becoming basis of growing in knowledge by learning is one-sided perhaps because this basis alone does not include destroying antiquated knowledge or acquiring knowledge that is destructive. A cup that is already full cannot be filled, or you can’t fill only half a cup vertically. Knowledge that is not “of ‘field’ and the ‘field-knower’” is not real knowledge and thus should be destroyed rather than delighted-in.[4] Genuine knowledge, which includes “the knowledge of the basis-of-self and insight into the purpose of knowledge of Reality, can be a delight according to this interpretation, though such knowledge may have to be balanced with destroying the pretentions of superficial knowledge or illusion.[5]

Alternatively, the point in not delighting in learning could be that a person should be meditating rather than learning knowledge at all. “For better than (ritual) practice is knowledge. Superior to knowledge is meditation. From meditation (comes) the relinquishment of actions’ fruit.”[6] This presumably includes even real, or genuine, knowledge because learning itself does not include extra-textual religious experience whereas meditation does.[7]

As a third interpretation, attachment to knowledge, even if that knowledge is of reality, is what leaves a person in an even darker darkness than one is in from worshipping ignorance. Perhaps real knowledge is more tempting to clutch onto than is ignorance known to be false. “Although sattva, the highest, most luminous power of nature, brings the embodied self close to realizing its true identity, it is still characterized by attachment to happiness (sukha-sanga) and to knowledge (jnanasanga; [Gita] 14.6).”[8] Sattva is, after all, one of the three gunas that stem from prakriti. It follows that delighting in learning does not bring peace; in fact, and paradoxically, there is darkness in being attached to delight in learning. That real knowledge itself is not the problem is clear from Gita 13.12, which states that “what-is-to-be-known,” which includes knowledge of brahman, the “beginningless supreme world-ground” that “is called neither existence nor nonexistence,” allows a yogin to attain “immortality.”[9] In this view, it is not knowledge or learning that is the problem; rather, attachment, as in delighting in learning, staves off liberation (moksha).

Immortality can be attained from real knowledge, which includes (and may ultimately be) knowledge of brahman, even though delighting in learning leaves a person in “still blinder darkness” than is the case from worshipping ignorance.”[10] Because the “(world-ground) is also called Light of lights beyond darkness”—meaning that brahman “is knowledge, what-is-to-be-known, accessible to knowledge, seated in the heart of all (beings)”[11]–-genuine knowledge itself cannot be, or bring about, darkness. In fact, a devotee having such knowledge “approaches My state-of-being,” which, in going beyond existence and nonexistence, is arguably identical to the Self, which is brahman. Being impartial, as is enjoined by the Isha Upanishad, and thus ultimately being unattached even to genuine knowledge, rather than taking delight in it, as well as in sattva, which “binds . . . by (subtle) attachment to joy and by attachment to knowledge,”[12] may be the point in delight in learning leaving a person in blinder darkness than is the case in worshipping ignorance.

Transcending cognition may be that arduous yet necessary last step before being liberated from samsara. Rather than delighting in even genuine knowledge, a devotee’s delight may ultimately be none other than the bliss that is inherent in the very being of consciousness. Liberation transcends learning, which, rightly understood, is a means rather than the end. A person’s favorite mask of eternity, Joseph Campbell once said, can be the final obstruction to experiencing eternity.

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1. Georg and Brenda Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita: A New Translation (Boston: Shambhala, 2011), 141.
2. Isha Upanishad 9, 12 in Upanishads, Trans. Patrick Olivelle (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996), 249-50.
3. Ibid., 14 in Upanishads, 250.
4. Gita 13.2 in Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, 253.
5. Gita 13.11 in Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, 257.
6. Gita 12.12 in Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, 249.
7. Here, Hume’s contention that it is difficult for the human mind to hold onto the notion of divine simplicity for long without putting on anthropomorphic ornaments is relevant.
8. Angelika Malinar, The Bhagavadgita: Doctrines and Contexts (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007), 200.
9. Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, 257. That Krishna extends “beyond” existence and nonexistence is to say that the Supreme Person is ultimately the Self, which is brahman.
10. Isha Upanishad 9 in Upanishads, 249.
11. Gita 13.17 in Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, 259.
12. Gita 14.6 in Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, 265.

Hindu Dharmic Leadership

At Harvard’s Bhukti Yoga Conference in 2025, Ed Anobah spoke on dharma (right-acting) leadership as a means of making progress in solving societal problems using Hinduism’s spiritual tradition of bhukti (devotionalism).  Anobah based his talk on the book, Leadership for an Age of Higher Consciousness by D. T. Swami. In the Bhagavad-Gita, Krishna says that what great people do, other people follow. What constitutes healthy, impactful leadership? The ideal leader in Hinduism is also a great sage, like Plato’s notion of a philosopher king. Leadership that deals wholistically with the human condition by exemplifies the character of a leader, which does not mean that only highly educated persons can or should be leaders. Rather, “everyone is a leader,” potentially, and “we are all leading our own life.” Each of us is a leader potentially for other people on the interpersonal level. Each of us can inspire other people. Anobah claimed that certain universal principles of leadership can apply across the board. I submit that this view is vulnerable to being too utopian when it is applied in the business world. Being realistic as to possible practical difficulties and even limitations in applying dharmic leadership in business (and government) is advisable. Even there being different metaphysical assumptions can get in the way, practically speaking, as compassionate leadership runs up against the profit-motive in business. 

The full essay is at "Hindu Dharmic Leadership." 

Acting Morally: Bhukti Yoga and Kant Beyond Duty

At Harvard’s Bhukti Yoga Conference in 2025, a Hindu religious artist whose Hindu name is Srimati Syamarani, spoke on the art of spiritual life. A person is like the hand of Krishna. The hand puts food in Krishna’s body, so the entire body is nourished. The hand serving the body is a duty. So too is following the type of bhukti that is following rules and regulations out of duty. At some point, it will no longer be felt as a duty. In Kantian terms, this means not acting ethically by being compelled by reason—the necessity of the moral law that reason presents to us; rather, going beyond moral duty is to approximate the holy will, but not because it is the nature of finite rational beings to be good; rather, it is out of love of the moral law, including its necessitating us to act ethically. In bhukti devotion, however, it is not love of the form of moral law (i.e., it being an imperative, or command, of reason) that obviates the sense of duty to serve Krishna and other people, as in being a hand of Krishna serves Krishna’s body; rather, it is love directed to Krishna (and ensuing compassion to people) that transcends ethical obligation per se. This is not to say that bhukti practice can go beyond feeling obligated due to a feeling, whereas it is by the use of reason that Kantian gets beyond duty, for it is the feeling of respect that empirically motivates a person to treat people as not only means to one’s own goals, but also as ends in themselves. As rational beings, we partake in reasoning, albeit in a finite way, and reason itself has absolute value because it is by reason that value is assigned to things. Even so, it cannot be said that a devotee of Krishna in Hinduism can go beyond acting out of duty due to an emotion (i.e.., love or compassion) whereas for Kant it is just by reasoning that a person can go beyond acting because one is duty-bound.

To Kant, acting out of a maxim, which is simply a reason for doing something, that includes a desire for an empirical object is lower than having as a reason, acting out of the moral law. Material principles presuppose an object of desire. Getting that object is a condition of having the subjective, material principle. Kant didn’t want a material maxim, such as the desire for one’s own happiness, not to mention wealth, to have anything to do with the moral law. A material maxim cannot furnish the content of a moral law. “All practical principles that presuppose an object (matter) of the faculty of desire as the determining ground of the will are, without exception, empirical and can furnish no practical laws.”[1] A moral law, which is practical in that it relates to actions rather than, say, metaphysics, cannot be oriented to getting something that is desired. Not even the desire to be happy can be admitted to a moral law. “All material practical principles as such are, without exception, of one and the same kind and come under the general principle of self-love or one’s own happiness.”[2] Even though self-love, unlike self-conceit, is constrained by moral law, self-love is sordid in that it can be the basis of a reason for doing something (i.e., a maxim) that is connected with a desire for something. Additionally, Kant maintains that “(t)he maxim of self-love (prudence) merely advises,” whereas “the law of morality commands. . . . there is a great difference between which we are advised to do and that to which we are obliged.”[3] In short, being motivated by self-love is not strong enough to get us to act morally. It is the form of a moral law, specifically as a command by reason, that turns out to be crucial in us, who have other inclinations, to be moral agents.  

Even enjoying doing your duty is a material practical principle because such a motive is empirical in nature, whereas being motivated to act because of the form of the moral law is not a material principle. The holy will of an infinite being can only be approximated by finite rational beings by trying to extirpate material desires (i.e., trying to rid oneself of all inclinations). But we can’t do that completely. Even so, we can be morally good agents because we can feel obligated to do something out of duty; we know we can be ethical because we are obligated. That is to say, we can be moved to do something just because it is our duty. Moral goodness is only possible for finite rational beings; if we were infinite, we wouldn’t be morally good—we would be good because that would be our nature. A fully rational agent would just do as a matter of its nature what it ought to do, so doing so would not even be thought of or felt as a duty. In bhukti, Krishna does not feel obliged to act ethically; rather, the deity does so out of compassion, which is the deity’s nature.

To Kant, Love and benevolence are a matter of duty to for finite beings such as us. In contrast, pathological love is from an inclination and thus cannot be a duty.  Practical love is the duty to make the following maxim: acting for others’ state rather than one’s own as a reason for doing something. Even though for Kant self-love is subject to the moral law (whereas self-conceit is not), it seems to me that the maxim of love and benevolence is difficult to reconcile with the idea that self-love is confined by the moral law. I think Kant’s desire to distinguish self-love from self-conceit is responsible for his over-estimation of self-love normatively (i.e., as a good thing).

Also, whereas love and benevolence are salient in bhukti devotion and the devotee’s interpersonal relations, for Kant, practical love can’t be the sole motive in acting on a moral duty because but there cannot be a duty to have a feeling. “If a rational being is to think of his maxims as practical universal laws, he can think of them only as principles that contain the determining ground of the will not by their matter but only by their form.”[4] The moral law has the form of an imperative by the nature of law itself, as necessitated by reason. Necessitation is the process by which a finite rational being brings oneself to do what one ought to do by what one takes as a command of reason to do. Necessitation is a psyche process in the phenomenal realm (i.e., of appearances) that is empirically motivated by means of the feeling of respect. But this is only empirically so; a priori (i.e., apart from experience), it is the duty itself that motivates us. Think of reason as commanding you. A person follows the command by being motivated by a feeling of respect for the moral law itself. It is precisely that feeling that can obviate the sense of duty itself; even though our nature, unlike Krishna’s or God’s, is not goodness itself (omnibenevolence), we can get beyond feeling obligated to act according to the duty required by reason and motivated by respect for other people as ends in themselves (because they too are rational beings). With sufficient respect for the form (i.e., imperative) of moral law itself, a person can act morally not out of a sense of duty.

In her talk, Srimati Syamarani spoke of following the rules and regulations first as her duty, but then out of love for Krishna. In contrast, Kant claims that love cannot be the sole motive for acting morally, whether out of duty or not. Respect for the imperative of reason itself in its capacity as a moral law-giver is very different than the love that a devotee directs to a deity, and yet these two ways can get finite moral agents acting morally and yet not out of a sense of duty.

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1. Immanuel Kant, Critique of Practical Reason.
2. Ibid.
3. Ibid., 5:36.
4. Ibid., 5:27.

Comparative Devotionalism: Hinduism and Christianity

I suspect that many people would feel very uncomfortable watching a religious person express devotional love to that person’s chosen deity in a very emotional and effusive manner. The sheer emotional intensity amid the dancing and chanting in a Hare Krishna temple can be daunting to a visitor. The phenomenon of what in Hinduism is called bhukti is hardly rare, and this begs the question of whether there is a human instinctual urge to feel and express even lifelong loving devotion to an entity that is not based in the created realm and thus cannot be realized and instantiated as another human being can be and is. Whether there is a phenomenon that is human, thus beyond the manifestations in various religions can go a long way in answering the question of whether an innate instinctual urge exists, even if it is more pressing in some people than in others. Some people, for instance, work their whole life in business, while other business practitioners reach a certain point in years when they “check out,” and head to a divinity school or seminary. Still other people assume religious vocations as young adults and spend the rest of their life ministering to people and officiating at religious rituals. Some people spend their entire life without feeling devotional love directed to a deity, while other people, such as the Hindu mystic, Ramakrishna, are utterly consumed by the inward fire of religious devotion. Was Ramakrishna’s devotion different in kind from a Christian’s intense love of Jesus, or is there what can be termed a human bhakti phenomenon, and if so, is it capable of breaking down religious barriers that can excite animosity and even hatred?

Jess Navarette, speaking at Harvard’s Bhakti Yoga conference in March, 2025, discussed comparative Bhakti by looking at Hindu and Christian parallels. Bhakti yoga is the practice of loving devotion. There is a coherent thread back to the Vedas, and devotion to Krishna is salient in several of the chapters of the Bhagavad-Gita. In chapter 7 alone, Krishna tells Arjuna, “Here (now), O son-of-Pritha, how, [with] the mind attached to Me, engaged in Yoga, [with] Me as refuge, you may know Me fully, without doubt.”[1] Taking refuge is other than epistemological (i.e., knowing), as dependence is involved. Furthermore, Krishna says that people who act meritoriously and for “whom evil has come to an end” are those who “worship” Krishna rather than the other deities.[2] Because the early-medieval Hindu theologian and philosopher Shankara claims that even in the Gita, achieving the realization that one’s self (atman) is identical to brahman, which is being itself and is conscious or aware, it is important to stress that Bhakti devotion to a deity involves more than just knowing the deity’s higher nature; loving devotion, such as is evinced in worshipping a deity, is the essence of bhakti.

Although it is problematic to apply the Hindu term bhakti to other religions, such as Christianity, just as applying the word “God” to brahman is also problematic, devotion to a deity is in other religions besides Hinduism, and by looking at the similarities, the phenomenon of religious devotion can be better understood because the artifacts of particular religions can be distinguished from the trans-religious phenomenon itself. This, by the way, is an excellent reason for studying comparative religion or theology, though such an orientation comes with the opportunity cost of the foregone benefits of specializing in one religion.

One such bhukti parallel pertains to Jesus washing the disciples’ feet[3] and Krishna washing Sudama’s feet.[4] Both Lord Jesus and Lord Krishna commend service by leading by example. Also, both highlight the closeness of God and the intimacy that is possible in loving devotion.  Finally, both passages imply the personal care and attention that the Son of God and Lord Krishna give to humans, who should thus be humble (and grateful) in return, for such care and attention is voluntary.

Another parallel of devotion to God pertains to Judaism and Christianity, and this similarity will lead us to back to making Hindu-Christian comparisons. Deuteronomy 6:5 says, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and strength” and Matthew 22:37-40 says, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: Love your neighbor as yourself.” Although the latter extends love to interpersonal relations, both passages are very direct in issuing the imperative that devotional love is to be directed to God. Of the thought of Gregory of Nyssa (4^th century), Navarette wrote, “The perfection of human nature consists in being united with God by a kind of devotion which leads the soul to love Him above all things.”  Furthermore, Francis of Assisi’s prayer includes “to be loved as to love.”

It may that in the Hindu Gita, love itself is not so explicitly mentioned by Krishna, whereas taking refuge in and worshiping Krishna are more explicitly demanded, yet this does not mean that devotional love is not much desired by Krishna in the Gita as by the Christian God. Rather, it may be the case that Christianity builds on the passage in Deuteronomy to be known as the religion of love, hence both Paul and Augustine wrote that God is love. Devotion is to be directed to pure (agape) love itself. Is this the epitome of bhukti, or is the Hindu articulation really all that different from being devoted to love personified (or as an entity, rather than impersonal), especially considering the example of Ramakrishna in the nineteenth century?  After all, as a Hindu devotee of Kali the goddess of death, Ramakrishna was so authentically and lovingly devoted to her that a brahmin priest let Ramakrishna speak extemporaneously during a ritual. His devotion to Kali was certainly no less than that of Thérèse of Lisieux and that of Gertrud of Helfta to the Christian Lord Jesus. Both women were cloistered Christian nuns; at the very least they had few distractions, so they could devote themselves entirely to being devoted in love to Jesus.

Taking refuge in Krishna is not so far off, and, as stated above, it is more emotional than knowing Krishna’s higher nature epistemologically. It may be that the intimacy itself (e.g., high trust) that is inherent in taking refuge in a deity is none other than love, as in the old expression, where there’s smoke, there’s fire; or, taking refuge could be in terms of ontological dependence that is a micro reflection of the fact that creation is dependent on Krishna’s creative force. Perhaps in teasing out the relationship between love and radical dependence, taking refuge in Krishna can be compared with the bridal imagery that has been so often appropriated by Christian mystics—nuns being known as brides of Christ. Certainly historically, there has been much interpersonal and societally-structured dependence in the marriage relationship between a husband and a wife; presumably love has existed in at least some of those relationships in spite of the dependence of (especially pregnant) wives on their respective “bread winners.”

Origen of Alexandria (185-254 CE) wrote on the Song of Songs of the Old Testament, treating the religious poem as an allegory of the relationship between the soul and God. According to Navarette, for Origin “the bride symbolizes the soul, while the bridegroom represents Christ”, and the objective is to “cultivate an intimate relationship with the Divine.”  In his presentation, Navarette also cited Bernard of Clairvaux, who, in his book, On Loving God, advances the idea that, according to Navarette, “besides reverence, there is the intimacy such that a bride has with her bridegroom.”  For Bonaventure too, “to attain God includes the imagery of a bride and bridegroom.” Similarly, Ramakrishna thought of himself as married to Kali, and to be married to the goddess of death is no small commitment. Moreover, how could any loving devotion of a creature such as Man not involve radical dependence, for neither in Hinduism nor in Christianity does a divinity need to create a world out of some kind of lack in the divine itself.

Even though Christianity’s core is that God itself is (selfless) love, love devoted to Krishna is certainly salient in the devotionalism. Even so, devotional love being directed to love itself (agape) does seem to be a good candidate to be known as the epitome of bhakti. This is not to say that Christian devotionalism is superior to Hindu bhakti; rather, it is to raise the thought, what if Krishna’s higher nature were exclusively love itself? Would that change how devotion to Krishna is to be interpreted in the Gita and practiced by bhukti practitioners?

In his presentation, Navarette discussed the work the scholar, Francis Clooney, who pioneered the field of comparative theology. Navarette cited Clooney’s contention that “even partial common ground can strengthen our own religious convictions.” Perhaps Krishna’s description of devotion to Him can be useful to a Christian who is trying to love Jesus better. Moreover, in Hindu God, Christian God, Clooney, according to Navarette, predicts that the “fixed boundaries separating religions become all the less plausible . . . because the theological insights arising in comparative study will push those boundaries.” For example, Clooney claims that a Christian could accept the virtues of Narayana, who is the protector of all who has supreme mercy.[5] Sounds a lot like Jesus, doesn’t it? Preaching God’s mercy instead of drumming divine wrath into everyone’s heads in the Gospel stories, Jesus can be seen as a reformer in Judaism. To be sure, unrepentant sinners, such as “Christian” clergy who rape children, deserve divine wrath, but this should not prevent other people from realizing that divine mercy opens up the possibility of love, which presumably includes that which a religious devotee directs to a deity. Given the ontological chasm between deities and the created realm, which includes us, mercy opening up a space for love can create the sort of intimacy that collapses distance, and this can apply not only vertically, but also as benevolentia universalis.

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1. Gita 7.1 in Georg and Brenda Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita: A New Translation (Boston: Shambhala, 2011), p. 171.
2. Gita 7.28 in Ibid., p. 177.
3. John 13:1-17 (in The New Testament).
4. Bhagavata Purana, tenth canto 80:20-26.
5. Vedanta Desika, Rahasya Traya Saram (14^th century).

Christian Devotionalism in Film

Brian De Palma’s film, Obsession (1976), harkens back to Hitchcock’s film, Vertigo (1958) primarily in that resemblances between a character-contrived myth, or story, and the closely related, though different in key respects, social reality in the film (i.e., what’s really going on in the film’s story-world) trigger perplexed reactions for the character being duped by other characters in the film. I thought she died, but there she is . . . or maybe that’s another woman who looks like her—so much so that I believe I can will the woman to be her. The human mind may be such that it convinces itself of even a supernatural explanation than admit that one’s own mind has been fooled by someone else’s cleverness. At the very least, resonances between the impossible and the possible can increase the uncertainty of the beholder. Doubt as to what is really going on can be stultifying, and the human mind is all too willing to fill in the gap by either resorting to a supernatural explanation or making something so as if believing it to be so is sufficient to render it really the case.

The full essay is at "Obsession."

A Hindu Goddess Destroying and Recreating Other Hindu Deities: Contrasting the Christian Trinity

The Saundarya Lahari characterizes the Hindu goddess, Devi, as being the power behind the proverbial throne—meaning the thrones of the three main deities, Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva. Without Devi bestowing her power on those (and all other) gods, they would “return to their primal, dormant state” until revived by the power that Devi wields as signified visually by the weapons that she holds.[1] Are those deities merely dormant, however, or are they destroyed when Devi withholds her power? For there is an appreciable difference between being rendered impotent or inactive, and being zerstört (i.e., destroyed). In Greek mythology, one thing that distinguishes the gods from morals is that of the two, only the gods cannot die. In Christianity, Jesus Christ survives the death of his corporeal body, which is transformed in the bodily resurrection on Easter in a way that would have perplexed Plato. Indeed, it is interesting to compare the Trinity with the relation of the foundational goddess Devi to the three main gods in the Saundarya Lahari, a poem doubtlessly written by a devotee of the goddess.

Verse 25 of the Hindu poem highlights the points that “Devi is supreme” and the other “divine beings . . . serve and praise Her. Devi provides the foundation for the gods and their worship.”[2] Francis Clooney’s translation goes as follows:

“Benevolent one, may the worship rendered to the three gods born of Your three qualities be as worship rendered to Your feet, for near the jeweled seat on which Your feet rest, they ever stand, folded hands adorning their crowns.”[3] 

Worshipping Brahma, who is the creator deity, Vishnu, who sustains the world by inhaling its pollution, and Shiva, the destroyer, is tantamount to worshipping the goddess, Devi, as the three gods stand at her feet, which in turn are associated with her power and thus protection. It is as if Devi is sitting on a throne, at the bottom of which the three main Hindu gods are standing. The image in Christianity of Jesus sitting on the right side of the Father may come to mind, though in that case, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are not separate deities, but, rather, are three manifestations of one God. To be sure, in Hinduism, the deities are considered to be manifestations of Brahman, which is consciousness/awareness beyond that of sentient beings, existence/reality, and bliss, and is not thought of as a supreme personal deity as is the Abrahamic deity. The supremacy of Devi is that of one deity over others (in terms of power), and in Christianity the Father and Son are of one substance rather than one manifestation of the God being superior to the other. Even so, the Christian image is hardly disparate here in imagining the special relationships in verse 25 of the Saundarya Lahari.

Swami Tapasyananda’s translation of verse 25 can be approached as providing additional details, albeit at the expense of the poetic and linguistically literal qualities of Clooney’s more concise version:

“The worship done at Thy feet, O Consort of Siva, is also the worship of all the three Deities Brahma, Visnu and Siva, who have their origin in Thy three Gunas (Rajas, Sattva and Tamas). They require no special worship, because they are ever waiting with their joined palms held above their diademed heads in salutation to Thee by the side of the foot-stool of diamonds that bear Thy feet.”[4]

Tapasyananda does not provide a commentary on this verse; even so, we can visualize the three main Hindu gods standing next to the foot-stool that Devi, who is presumably sitting (on a throne), is using to rest her feet. Again, Jesus sitting at the right side of the Father may come to mind. But the three main Hindu gods—those of creation, sustaining the world, and destroying the world, respectively, don’t all align with the three Persons of the Christian Trinity.

God as creator or Jesus Christ as manifesting the Logos may be thought prime facie to resonate with Brahma as the creator deity in Hinduism, but the fact that Brahma draws on Devi’s rajas guna dispels any such likeness under the rubric of creating. In his commentary on verse 53, which I will draw on below to make another point, Tapasyananda claims that the rajas, sattva, and tamas are not only qualities found in nature, but are also Devi’s creative power and are thus the respective origins of the three main gods.[5] If the parallelism between listing the three gods and the three gunas means that the latter are respective to the order of the deities, then Brahma, the god who creates the world is characterized by Rajas: “activity, passion, desire, attachment, and energy.”[6] Rajas “embodies movement, expansion and upward flow.”[7] In Christian theology, the creative agent in God is the Logos, or “word” or “reason,” which is that which later incarnates as Jesus Christ. The nature of God as an intelligent being is highlighted in the Logos, whereas passion and desire are among the qualities in which the Hindu god Brahma has its origin, which, by the way, means that Brahma has his origin in Devi’s creative power. Also, whereas the Christian God can be reckoned as being the source of the energy that is in Creation, Brahma can be characterized in terms of the creative energy itself, which comes from Devi. In this sense, the transcendent Christian God is more like Brahman than the Hindu deities. All except for Devi, however, as the devotee writes of that goddess,

“You are mind, You are air, You are wind and the rider of wind, You are water, You are earth, beyond You as You evolve there is nothing higher, there is only You, and when You transform Yourself by every form, then You take the form of consciousness and bliss as a way of being, O Shiva’s youthful one!”[8]

Besides being the basic elements that make up creation (though the ancient Greek philosopher Empedocles included fire along with earth, air, and water), Devi is mind, and thus awareness/consciousness. In verse 30 the poet writes to Devi, “You are eternal” and “I am You.” Both verses describe Devi close to how Brahman is described elsewhere (awareness, existence itself, and bliss). Devi pervades creation and even beyond, as there is nothing higher; “there is only You.” Perhaps it could be said that Devi is beyond functionality—having also an ontological existence that renders the goddess qualitatively different than the other gods and goddesses because only Devi can be understood in terms that apply to Brahman. In this sense, Devi is more like the Christian deity than are the other Hindu gods and goddesses, for which particular functions are emphasized (e.g., Shiva is the destroyer). In other word, Devi (in assuming Brahman qualities) can be thought of as the awareness and reality within which the big deities exist and perform their functions. It follows that in destroying the world, Shiva cannot destroy Devi.

Whereas both Brahma and the Christian God are associated with creating the universe, the god Shiva bears little resemblance to the Christian God, which as Paul and Augustine wrote, is essentially love. Compassion and mercy outweigh the destructiveness of God’s wrath. Shiva having its origin in the tamas guna, which is associated with “inertia, ignorance, delusion, darkness, and heaviness,” and represents “sloth, dullness, and downward flow.”[9] None of these qualities pertains to the Christian God, even in its wrath.

As for Vishnu, in that his origin is in the qualities of sattva, this god can be characterized by “truth, goodness, harmony, balance, and spiritual essence,” as representing “light, intelligence, and consciousness.”[10] Whereas Shiva destroys, Vishnu sustains, or saves the world at least in the meantime, and, furthermore, as having the qualities of goodness, harmony (peace), a spiritual sense, light, intelligence, and consciousness, Vishnu can be viewed in terms similar to Jesus. The second “person” of the Trinity (i.e., Jesus) is the Logos, which in turn, as reason, can be associated with intelligence. Indeed, Vishnu’s incarnation or avatar as the god Krishna has been likened to Jesus Christ, as compassion is salient to both the Hindu god and the incarnated manifestation of the Christian God (i.e., Jesus Christ). Indeed, the Christian Incarnation can be thought of as the consciousness of God winnowed through a (finite) human body.

Even given these likenesses between Vishnu and Jesus, the latter is a manifestation or “Person” of a deity, whereas Vishnu is a deity (among others). Also, the relationship between Vishnu and Devi is not between two manifestations (or “Persons”) of one God (though admittedly of Brahman, though that is not a deity). Devi is a goddess and Vishnu is a god; both are Hindu deities to be worshipped even though worshipping Devi is sufficient because Vishnu has his origin in Devi’s creative power (sattva). To be sure, it could be said that Jesus gets his power from the Father, as for instance when Jesus calls on God the Father in bringing Lazarus back to life. “Jesus looked up and said, ‘Father, I thank you that you have heard me.’”[11] Whether Jesus’ Father could cut off Jesus’ power such that Jesus would be rendered inactive or even destroyed (beyond just the death of his body) may be similar to asking whether Devi could render the other Hindu deities merely dormant or actually destroy them by taking away their power.

Francis Clooney’s translation of verse 26 of the Saundarya Lahari is relevant:

“Virinci [Brahma] returns to the five elements, Hari [Vishnu] ceases His delight, the destroyer [Kinasa (Yama, the god of death)] meets destruction, the lord of wealth loses wealth, the untiring array of great Indras also close their eyes, and in that great dissolution, O good woman, Your Lord plays.”[12]

On the one hand, Brahma seems to be destroyed by Devi, who returns that god to the five basic elements in the world; Kinasa is destroyed because he himself meets destruction; and, moreover, the word “dissolution” implies more than the gods merely going inactive. On the other hand, Vishnu no longer being delighted, the lord of wealth losing wealth, and the Indra closing his eyes may be interpreted as Devi merely rendering those deities passive by taking away their respective powers. Yet in describing the whole verse in terms of “dissolution,” the poet may have meant destruction rather than inactivity, given that the word “dissolution” has been defined as the “dissolving” or “separation” of something “into component parts”, as in “disintegration” or “death,” or the “termination or destruction by breaking down, disrupting, or dispersing.”[13]

Tapasyananda’s translation of the verse might be helpful too:

“Virincill (Brahma) is reduced into elements: Hari (Visnu) retires into passivity; Kinasa (Yama the god of death) himself dies; Kubera the god of wealth meets with his end; and Indra with all his followers closes his eyes in destruction. When such, O Sati (chaste Consort of Siva), is the state of all beings at the time of the total dissolution (mahasamhara) of the universe, Thy husband Sadasiva [Shiva] alone is sporting.”[14] 

Even though Vishnu being passive resonates with that god no longer having delights rather than necessarily being destroyed, Kinasa, Kubera, and Indra are clearly destroyed, given the respective words, “dies,” “meets with his end,” and “destruction,” respectively. Vishnu too seems to be destroyed rather than merely rendered inoperative because Devi leaves only Shiva, her husband, around “at the time of the total dissolution (mahasamhara) of the universe.” Maha Samhara can in general mean “destruction, annihilation, or dissolution.”[15] None of these words are consistent with, or imply someone merely being rendered impassive. The destruction presumably includes the gods, as, according to the Rig Veda, they came out of purusa’s head rather than having existed prior to the primordial human body out of which the heavens and the earth were carved.

Devi only excepts Shiva because out of the loyalty or faithfulness that a consort has to her husband, the wife gains power, and Devi is all about power. In his commentary on the verse, Tapasyananda explains that the indestructability of the couple, Siva-Sakti (i.e., Shiva and Devi), is due to Devi’s “whole-hearted faithfulness” (pativratya) to her husband, “which according to Hindu belief, is supposed to generate great power in a woman.”[16] Perhaps as a result of if such an augmentation to her power, it is so great that she can bring the other deities back into existence, rather than merely allow them to be active again. This would indeed justify her claim that devotees need only worship her to worship the three main gods.

For we find later in the Saundarya Lahari, in the Flood of Beauty (verses 42-91), in verse 53 specifically, that the three main gods, Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva, “still play a part in the drama of beauty and pleasure surrounding Devi. To do so, they must exist after having been destroyed by Devi. They exist due to Her glance: “O beloved of the Lord, when Your eye shadow smears in play[,] Your triad of eyes displays three colors distinctly, and so recreates the three gods—Druhina, Hari, Rudra—after they’d ceased; Your eyes shine like the triad of qualities, sattva, rajas, and tamas.’”[17] In being recreated after they had ceased—being recreated means that ceased to exist rather than merely ceased to be active is the correct implication—the gods Druhina (i.e., Brahma), Hari (Vishnu) and seemingly inconsistently because Devi had not destroyed her husband, even Rudra (Shiva) are again existing. Tapasyananda’s translation of verse 53 fills in some of the details of Devi’s glance, which is enough to bring the main gods back into existence:

“O Consort of Isvara [Shiva]! Thy three eyes look tri-coloured when the black of the beautifying collyrium shines by the side of their natural white and reddish tinges, each keeping its distinctiveness. It looks as if these three colours represent the three Gunas of Rajas, Sattva, and Tamas, which Thou assumes with a view to revive Brahma, Visnu, and Rudra [Shiva] after their dissolution in the Pralaya, and start them once again on the creative activity.”[18]

In his commentary, Tapasyananda notes that the three colors represent the three gunas respectively, which Devi uses as the “creative power” with which to revive the three gods and enable them to be active.[19] By implication destroying them and rendering them inactive are distinct. Devi does both in destroying Brahma and Vishnu, as reviving rather than merely enabling activity are both done in verse 53.

Tapasyananda’s choice of the word, revive, is particularly interesting, as it may imply bringing back to life rather than merely existence. In Clooney’s translation of the verse, he uses “recreate” rather than “revive”:

“O beloved of the Lord, when Your eye shadow smears in play[,] Your triad of eyes displays three colors distinctly, and so recreates the three gods—Druhina, Hari, Rudra—after they’d ceased; Your eyes shine like the triad of qualities, sattva, rajas, and tamas.[20]

Clooney “opted for the more literal translation of punah srastum—the verb srj usually means ‘to create,’ whereas ‘revive’ is a weaker translation; it may be that [Tapasyananda] wanted to show that the deities were not dead, but only in a swoon.”[21] If so, then Clooney’s interpretation leaves Devi with more power, as more is needed to destroy and recreate than merely to render something (or someone) powerless. The poet’s point that a devotee of Vishnu or Shiva, for example, need only worship Devi, as the power behind those gods, rather than also worship them too, is stronger. In my own search, I found that punah srastum can also mean “to originate,” which bolster’s Clooney’s interpretation, which, by the way, is consistent with the inclusion in the verse of the word “cease.”

In short, Devi destroys gods rather than merely renders them impotent (non potentia). In viewing the big gods as destroyed and then recreated along in the cyclical paradigm of the religion, Hinduism differs fundamentally from the Abrahamic religions, wherein Yahweh/God/Allah is not created or subject to creation, but, rather, like Brahma, creates the universe. Neither is the Abrahamic God subject to being destroyed, given the divine attribute of omnipotence; nothing has power over God.

Furthermore, interpreting Devi as reviving the big gods may imply that the gods are alive. In the Christian New Testament, Jesus revives Lazarus, who is not a god. Reviving a person is distinct from when God the Father resurrects Jesus. Devi does not resurrect, or much less bodily resurrect, Brahma and Vishnu (and perhaps Shiva).[22] So from a Christian standpoint, Devi reviving gods and goddesses simply does not make sense. This is yet another reason for going with Clooney’s translation. Also, the ancient Greeks would not have understood how a deity can be destroyed and then recreated later, because immortality is a major attribute of a Greek god or goddess (being a giant is the other main requirement).

To be sure, in a general sense, God manifesting as the Father brings the divine manifestation that is Jesus back from having been killed. This is vaguely akin to Devi bringing at least two major gods back to existence after having destroyed them because the leitmotif is that of something divine ending and being brought back by something else that is divine. In Christianity, this has been referred to as God “self-emptying” of itself first in allowing itself to be incarnated alongside a human nature (albeit still fully divine and fully human: comprising one essence and two distinct rather than blending natures) and then to allow the Christ to die, which is more than merely being made inactive. In Hinduism, the main gods are destroyed then revived by the creative powers of a goddess, Devi. Devi herself does not suffer any self-emptying; in fact, being able to destroy and revive even gods means that her power is so great that only she is truly worthy of being worshipped, whereas in Christianity, all three Trinitarian manifestations, or “Persons,” of God are worthy of being worshipped in their own terms; worship of God the Father does not mean that neither the Son or the Holy Spirit need be worshipped. In contrast, the Saundarya Lahari, a poem of devotion to the Hindu goddess that empowers, destroys, and recreates all of the other gods and goddesses, asserts that given those powers, worship directed solely to Devi is sufficient; other divine manifestations of Brahman stand below Devi’s throne. Omnipotentia is, in other words, a very important divine attribute.

Yet another implication for Christianity is whether the Father’s power is great than that of Jesus, as the latter calls on the Father to revive Lazarus. If so, then being consubstantial (i.e., being of the same substance) does not necessary mean having the same amount of power. As manifestations of Brahman, according to Shankara, who was a Hindu theologian, Hindu deities are consubstantial, yet as the Saundarya Lahari insists, they differ greatly in power—Devi’s being so much more that she can destroy and recreate the other gods and goddesses. God manifesting as the Father in the Trinity, whose three manifestations are eternal and thus the two others cannot be destroyed and recreated by the Father, does not have that much power over the Son and Holy Spirit. In fact, it is the Son as the eternal Logos that is the Christian God’s Word that is that God’s creative power.

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1. The quoted text is from Francis X. Clooney, Divine Mother, Blessed Mother: Hindu Goddesses and the Virgin Mary (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005), p. 160.
2. Ibid.
3. Ibid.
4. Saundarya-Lahari of Sri Sankaracarya, trans. Swami Tapasyananda (Mylapore, Chennai: Sri Ramakrishna Math Printing Press, 1987), p. 72.
5. Ibid., p. 118.
6. Quoted text is from a search of the three names of the gunas at Brave.com (accessed October 14, 2024).
7. Ibid.
8. Verse 35 of the Saundarya Lahari. Francis X. Clooney, Divine Mother, Blessed Mother: Hindu Goddesses and the Virgin Mary (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005).
9. Quoted text is from a search of the three names of the gunas at Brave.com (accessed October 14, 2024).
10. Ibid.
11. The Gospel of John 11:41 (NIV).
12. Francis X. Clooney, Divine Mother, Blessed Mother: Hindu Goddesses and the Virgin Mary (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005), p. 160.
13. The Merriam-Webster Dictionary entry for “dissolution.” (Merriam-webster.com accessed on October 14, 2024).
14. Saundarya-Lahari of Sri Sankaracarya, trans. Swami Tapasyananda (Mylapore, Chennai: Sri Ramakrishna Math Printing Press, 1987),  p. 72.
15. Quoted words are from a search of the definition of Maha Samhara at Brave.com (accessed October 14, 2024).
16. Ramakrishna Math Printing Press, 1987), p. 73.
17. Francis X. Clooney, Divine Mother, Blessed Mother: Hindu Goddesses and the Virgin Mary (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005), p. 160.
18. Saundarya-Lahari of Sri Sankaracarya, trans. Swami Tapasyananda (Mylapore, Chennai: Sri Ramakrishna Math Printing Press, 1987), p. 117.
19. Ibid., p. 118.
20. Francis X. Clooney, Divine Mother, Blessed Mother: Hindu Goddesses and the Virgin Mary (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005), p. 160.
21. Francis X. Clooney, Personal correspondence, October 16, 2024.
22. I enclose “Shiva” in parentheses because of the contradiction in Devi having not destroyed Shiva and yet in verse 53, that god is included with the other two main Hindu gods as being revived by Devi. Although it is possible that another, prior verse has Devi destroy Shiva, which is unlikely because of the power that Devi (and the couple) gets for loyalty to her husband, I think it more likely that there is a contradiction in the text, which could indicate that it evolved over time, even after having been written, and perhaps more than one writer contributed to the poem. So it could be that in imposing unity on the poem, the error lies with the reader rather than the writer(s).